Anger Management
by Seryial
Summary: Hr Dr. His life is in shattered peices on the floor, glaring up at him as so many memories of the past. He hates her. He hates himself. He hates it all... why can't it all just end? HBP makes this an AU
1. Chapter 1

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 1

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

Draco Malfoy sat in class, the end of his quill idly tickling his bottom lip. McGonagall was speaking, but he'd tuned her out at least thirty minutes ago. Instead, his attention was caught by something, or rather, some_one_ else. She'd been driving him mad as of late. It was their 7th year, and he had gained Head Boy status... something he had been pining over for the past six years. Granted, he hadn't been obvious in his pursuit, it wasn't Malfoy style. When he had received notice of his new status he had played it cool, as if there had been no one else that could have possibly been chosen, when truly he had nearly shaken himself to death upon receiving the owl.

So now, he watched her. He watched her through narrowed, stormy gray blue eyes, narrowed and angry. This morning she'd woken up in her own head girl bedroom, come out into their shared common room and dared throw him out! He was still smoldering. The bushy haired brunette with all of her books, quills and parchments strewn throughout the common room, the tables getting dust on them from old books. Every time he walked in there he sneezed, and had to pat himself free of the offending particles.

Beside him Pansy touched his leg. It was meant to bring him back to attention- people were noticing his heated glaring at the brunette across the room. Everyone except her of course. Draco felt like ripping out every strand of his platinum blonde locks just at the stress he was having to deal with, with her being his dorm mate.

"Draco?" Pansy whispered now, leaning in close so McGonagall wouldn't take notice. Draco hadn't even heard her. He was to busy with his own musings. Stupid Mudblood. Her fucking books. Her fucking parchments. Those fucking pajamas she wore every night, and that fucking stuffed animal she kept with her! It all drove him mad, all of it. Her, especially her. He just couldn't come to terms with it! What was he going to do with her!

"Draco!" Pansy hissed a bit more urgently. This jostled him from his angry petitions. He glanced at the black haired Slytherin beside him. She gave him a sour look, obviously unamused that he was staring hard at the Mudblood.

"Pay attention, don't let some little twitty drive your grades into the ground!" She said, careful to keep her voice low but menacing. Draco rolled his eyes. Pansy could care less about his grades that was for damn sure. She was just voicing her jealousy in a reasonable fashion.  
"Whatever." He breathed, his voice sultry without meaning to be. Pansy didn't seem pleased with his answer, and with a little huff turned to look back towards McGonagall. So, Draco turned his attentions back to the Mudblood. Granger.

She had tried to make peace the first night they shared their dorm space. He hadn't wanted to make peace; he was just fine hating her, thanks. He hated everything about her, actually. He sat there, in the middle of McGonagall's class, staring at Hermione Granger with a look of such hatred that it could probably make fresh flowers wilt, trying to decide what he was going to about this problem. This Mudblood. This _girl_.

Class ended without a hitch. McGonagall had ended up attempting to make him do something, to which he fumbled somewhat, but eventually made flawless with his charm. The professor had noticed something was up, but neglected to pin it on him. Draco Malfoy had enough to deal with as of current.

Draco was striding towards the dorm he shared with _her_. He had reprimanded three first years and two third years on his way there, his anger flowing forth like a bubbling current. He had been like this since the start of term, and there was no sign of letting up.

His life had been less than stellar the past few years. His father had served time in Azkaban before finally divulging certain information about Lord Voldemort. Draco himself had served as a duel agent, something he was still reeling about. He had almost become a Death Eater, he had almost given his life and his soul to that foul... entity.

Draco stopped at the door to the adjoined Head Common Room. Their Head boy and girl bedrooms branched off from the common room, meaning you had to enter through there in order to reach either room. Draco stood, hand on the door as if waiting for something. Idly he wondered if Granger was behind these doors. Maybe wearing one of those muggle outfits he'd so resigned to hating. He frowned, and after a few more lingering seconds at the door, turned the knob and pushed it open.

A rush of sweet smelling air hit him. Incense was one of his favorite scents, actually and he was surprised that it was wafting from the common room. He slid in quietly, shutting the door behind his tall frame.

Granger sat curled up in front of the empty fireplace. It wasn't cool enough to have even a small fire going, lest you burn up. He glowered at her back, and slid towards his room. The girl ignored him, as she was prone to do. Anything to keep from confrontation.

Once in his room, Draco threw his books to the floor with a horrible sound. He ripped his robes off, tossing them as well. He stomped to his vanity, slamming his hands onto it and looked at himself in the mirror. Peering back was a young man of 17, pale blonde hair wisping to his chin, and currently somewhat messy. His normally cloudy blue eyes were darkened over with gray anger.

He stared into his reflection, trying to forget everything. Trying to forget about his father, about Voldemort, about Potter and Weasly, and especially about that Granger bitch! God, why was it his life? Hadn't he repented enough? He'd been used as a rag doll by both the ministry and Voldemort for almost two years. He touched his chest softly, not able to feel the scars embedded into his flesh but knowing they were there. He scowled. Never would he receive the kind of praise Potter and his friends did. No. No, Draco Malfoy wouldn't be remembered as the hero, fucking Potter would. Of course he would, he was the Boy that Lived, wasn't he?

Draco slammed his fist into his mirror, shattering it. The sound was loud against the silence of the room. Draco drew his hand back to watch the blood drip onto his dark wood dresser. He'd hardly felt the pain. Compared to what he had been put through, a few measly cuts were nothing. Absolutely nothing. Potter had slain Voldemort, but the dark wizard had already been weakened. Draco himself had almost been killed weakening him for that pathetic Potter to take all the credit.

He clenched his bloodied fist, causing it to bleed a bit more. He set his hand calmly back down onto the dress, careful of the glass shards. He looked again, now to his distorted face in the mirror. He frowned into his shattered image and fought the urge to slam his fist into the already broken mirror.

"Malfoy?" A tentive voice rang through his closed door. He turned to look at the barrier between his room and the common room, narrowing his eyes. He knew who it was of course. The one who brought his memories to the surface. The Boy Wonder's side kick. The know-it-all Gryffindor.

"What?" He hissed, not bothering to move. Why should he? It's not like he was going to invite her into his room.

"I..." She'd paused, probably to think of a way to phrase he next sentence. "I heard something shatter." Her voice was muffled coming through the closed door, but Draco thought he heard a hint of worry. He almost laughed, however concealed it to just a sarcastic smirk. Granger, worried? About him? The only things she worried about were grades, sharp quills, blank parchments and the two boys to whom she devoted her pathetic little life.

"My mirror shattered." He answered her. Why lie? She would just pry harder into it anyway. He heard her utter something that sounded like a spell… and seconds later his suspicions were confirmed.

The bushy brown haired Hermione Granger now stood in his open doorway, wand in hand. He spun to look at her, his hair obstructing his view for a fraction of a second.  
"Get out of my room!" he roared, pointing his bloodied hand towards her. Granger jumped at his voice, looking frightened for only a moment before regaining herself.

"Don't you tell me what to do Malfoy! I just wanted to know _why_ your mirror shattered! It could have been a jinx or a hex!" She said heatedly, pointing a finger back at him. She then seemed to notice the blood dripping from his outstretched hand. She stopped, her own pointed arm dropping slightly.

"You broke your mirror, didn't you?" She asked, her arm at her side now. She seemed to be analyzing him. A thousand emotions past her eyes in a single instant, and Draco didn't like any of them.

"So what? Get the fuck out of my room, Granger!" Draco absently pulled his bloodied hand behind him so she couldn't inspect his wounds from afar.

"Why would you do that?" She seemed to be ignoring his demands, something that he wasn't pleased with. In fact, in angered him. It angered him that this _Mudblood_ had the nerve to stand there and even speak to him, much less argue with him.

Draco moved quickly, so quickly in fact that by the time Hermione had raised her wand he had already smacked it from her hand. He crowded her into the doorframe, looming over her with his slightly larger frame. His eyes were wild, anger apparent.

"I hate having to fucking repeat myself!" He hissed, bringing his face down level with hers, his bloodied hand now resting right above her head, trapping her in the spot.

Hermione looked up at him defiantly, however her eyes held the fear she wasn't about to voice. Draco stared in her eyes, soaking in her fright. He gave her a trademark sneer, then forcefully grabbed her by the chin- something she hadn't expected. She knew he could be frightening, intimidating... but he'd never once touched her. The only time she'd ever touched him was when she had slapped him back in third year.

"Listen Granger," He hissed, bringing her face close to his. He pressed his cheek hard against hers, whispering, or rather hissing, into her ear. "I don't care what you do, so don't care about what I do." He took an idle note of her skin, soft against his own and getting warmer. Her face was getting flushed as she tried to pull away without words. However with his free hand he now held her in place. He moved to look at her, pressing his forehead against hers in a lovers pose. However, his eyes shone with anything but romance.

"If I want to shatter my mirror, it's my business. If I want to tear every painting off of the walls of my bedroom and shred them, it's my business." He smirked; amused at the look she was giving him. He knew she was silently cursing herself for her momentary lapse in judgment. "Don't ever come into my room again, Mudblood." He spat then, abruptly pulling away and yanking her away from him. She was caught off balance, and tripped onto the floor. She turned to glare at him from the heap she was now it.

"God damn you Draco Malfoy!"

"And God damn you to, you foul little wench!"

With that, Draco slammed his door shut, and picked up the nearest object to him- a glass lamp, and shattered it against the farthest wall. He panted, his chest heaving.

"Muddy, foul, dirty bitch." He seethed to no one, his voice to low to be heard by her should she have her ear pressed to his door. However, he turned to his closed door then, and screamed at it.

"I fucking hate you!"

---

A/N: Well, there it is. The first chapter. I thought it was all right, considering I just opened up my WordPad and began typing! I'm really still not quite sure where I am going with this... but I have a few ideas now that I've actually started writing. Puffs up with pride it feels good to get something down and out, even if it isn't 100. I don't see this being to long- perhaps 5 chapters at the very lengthiest. But, I have a problem ending things, so you never know. I'm just glad I started, it was my biggest obstacle! If anyone had any suggestions on plot, questions, or comments... tell me :D They are always appreciated!

Update: wow, spell checked this finally. :D Thank you all for being so kind and not nit picking my horrible mistakes! I'll be going through all the chapters like this. I finally got a different computer up and running (with Microsoft Word in it instead of just plain ol' Word Pad) so fear not! Everything will so be legible, I swear it!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 2

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

It had been at least three weeks since their... encounter. Draco wasn't quite sure, time was flying by. Granger had been avoiding him though, that much was certain. He hadn't actually seen her out of class in two, maybe three days. He smirked; perhaps she was hiding from him like a little rabbit? Draco sat in the common room, feet propped up on an ottoman. Several of his schoolbooks lay around him, as well as several blank and scribbled on parchments.

Granger hadn't yet returned from classes, of that he was sure. He'd come directly from his last class, of which he had with her, and she'd taken a way opposite his. Frowning, he looked to the door. He almost missed sneering at her when she came in. Almost. He directed himself back to his books- he had several inches worth of parchment due the next day and he hadn't gotten very far yet.

Perhaps an hour later a noise interrupted his thoughts. He heard a thud against the common room door, and then muffled voices. He strained his ears to make out what was going on outside...

"No, just let it alone!" A female voice. Perhaps Grangers, but he wasn't familiar enough with her voice to place it through a closed and locked door.

"No! That bastard needs some incentive to leave you the 'ell alone!" Defiantly Weasly's voice. The red headed boy Draco could place- he'd had enough spats with him and loved to hear to boy whine and cry. It just made Draco's day feel more... fulfilled.

"No, let me handle it! It's my problem!" The female's voice again. Now he was sure it was Hermione. Why else would Weasly be clawing at his door? He heard another thud, most likely Weasly was tying to beat the door down, but Granger kept catching his arm. Pathetic, to let a woman rule what you did. Especially a woman such as Granger.

"If it's your problem, then it's my problem!" Suddenly the common room door burst open. Weasly stood in the doorframe, his face almost as red as his hair, glowing with anger. Draco could have laughed. Granger stood behind him, frowning. She was obviously not pleased at what he was doing, but was no longer going to try and stop him. Whether it be out of hate for Draco, or the wish to teach Weasly a lesson, one couldn't be sure.

So, Draco pushed his books and parchments from his lap, arranging them neatly as if nothing had just happened.

"Get over here you pathetic excuse for a-" Weasly has begun, but Draco was going to finish.

"Excuse for a what? Exactly what were you going to say, Weasly?" He asked, getting to his feet now. He still wore most of his uniform, except his tie was loosened and his shirt untucked. Weasly was fumbling for words. Draco could tell he was trying hard to come up with something intelligent.

"Don't try. You'll only hurt yourself." He said with a smug look. Draco stood now, arms crossed loosely. Weasly glared at him with hate in his eyes, and Draco only chuckled. However, in mid-snicker, Weasly wheeled back an arm and slammed it hard into Draco right cheekbone.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't fall. In fact, Draco straightened, and his eyes flashed with an immediate anger. The red was already swelling in his face, but no pain showed.

"How dare you strike me." He hissed. Granger saw it, saw that he was going to hit Weasly and not stop hitting him.

"Stop, Malfoy stop!" She cried, now jumping in front of Weasly. Weasly went to push her aside, but Draco got to her first. Instead of sending her, backhanded and sprawling onto the floor (like he ought have), he simply grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the way like a child. After Granger was successfully removed from range, and while Weasly was sputtering out some nonsense and trying to hit him again in a blind rage- Draco laid him out flat.

Granger was immediately at Weasly's side, and Draco loomed over them both. His eyes were clouded over with anger, but more so disgust.

"I can't believe that you thought you could hurt _me_ Weasly." He uttered down at the only half conscious boy before him. Granger turned to glare up at Draco.

"Just leave him alone!" she yelled, tears in her eyes.

"Why, so he can attack me again?" Draco said coldly. Granger stared at him, mouth open slightly, trying to decide how to retort.

"In case you hadn't noticed, he attacked me first, I retaliated. Not that I should have to explain myself to the likes of you. Just get him the fuck out of my common room." Draco said, now turning his back on Granger.

"This is my common room to, ya know!" She yelled back at him. Draco laughed now, shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter.

"Then fuckin' act like it! Show your face! You're a pathetic excuse for witch, Mudblood!" He yelled, turning and jabbing an accusing finger at her. Why was he telling her to show her face? He hated her! Draco himself wasn't sure... perhaps he was lonely... Perhaps later he'd think harder about it. Now, he was just angry.

Granger stared at him, those eyes showing that... that emotion again. That emotion that he hated. That... pity or whatever the fuck it was! Draco felt like ripping his hair out again.

"Get him the fuck out of here! And you get the fuck out of here too, I'm sick of looking at you!" He yelled. Granger didn't move for a moment, and Draco's anger broke a release. He grabbed Granger by her bushy locks and hauled her to her feet. He brought her face-to-face again, but this time she seemed a bit more prepared, and she spit right into his face.

Draco didn't even wipe it away, nor did he seem perturbed. "Bitch, if you think that is going to stop me, you better well fucking start praying." He seethed. Granger was rigid, a hand now grasping Draco's shirt, as she tried to push him away. She didn't yell out though, something Draco was surprised about.

"Let. Me. Go." She said lowly. Weasly was still at her feet, drifting in and out of consciousness. He may have had a concussion, but no one was paying enough attention to him at the moment to notice.

"Why, so you can help your boy toy? I'd rather let him die on the floor at my feet and watch you suffer it." Draco sneered. He knew Weasly wasn't going to die of course, but it would have pleased him at that moment if he did.

Granger struggled a bit, but Draco's grip only strengthened. She glared daggers at him, this time, not showing fear.

"Fuck you, Malfoy." She said, foul language sounding wrong on her tongue. Draco smirked, enjoying the sound of it a little too much for his taste.

"Such words you speak. Be careful, you'll sound like me." Granger struggled more at this, and almost began to thrash. However, Draco moved his hand from her hair and to her face, grabbing her chin as he did the first time they touched. He squeezed her face, making her lips pucker involuntarily. Her face reddened, he wasn't sure if it was in anger or embarrassment.

"I can almost look at you without cringing, Granger." Draco said, almost sadistically squeezing her face. She shook her head violently, and yanked her free arm back to hit him. However, Draco was to fast and caught her arm.

"Never strike me." He said, deadpan. She stared at him, knowing that he meant business.

"Just... let me go, Malfoy." She said, her voice almost defeated. She took a breath, attempting to let the anger release from her body. She became less tense. Draco knew what she was trying to do. He enjoyed her anger, her hate. She was giving in so he would go away. She was smart; he'd give her that. But Draco Malfoy was smarter. Oh was Draco Malfoy smarter.

"I'll let you go." He said, slowly releasing her face. Granger rubbed her cheeks, the redness in them apparent. Draco looked her over, taking a step back. She frowned at him, and then turned, refusing to look him in the face. She bent back down to try and handle Weasly. Draco saddled up behind her though, without her noticing. Weasly was out cold now, and would need to be taken to the medical wing to see Pomfrey.

Draco touched the top of Hermione head and felt her bristle, apparently expecting to be yanked up by her hair again. However, he simply let his fingers drift idly through her hair. He knew this confused her, as she didn't look up at him right away. His face was soft, at least until her eyes met his. Immediately his face contorted into a sneer.

"Take care of your little man, Granger." He said, his voice venomous. He pulled on a strand of her hair, causing her to pull away quickly. He easily let loose of her hair, chuckling. She glared hatred towards him as he turned, hands filling his pockets.

"Get him out of here. And you get out to, I have no further use for you." He stated, then closing himself in his room. He heard something crash against his door- it sounded like a book. He smirked to himself, so Granger to had a nasty side? Draco then threw himself upon his lavish bed, turning to stare at the ceiling and rethink what had just happened.

He drew back on the past 10 minutes of his life, his eyes dulling in concentration. What had just happened? Nothing too much, really. He'd laid Weasly out on the common room floor. That was far more than enough to make him smile for the day. However, this thing about Granger... He'd told her to show up more often, did he not? Dwelling back on it, yes in fact he had. Why? Why would he want Granger to be around more?

Draco flipped onto his side to stare at his dresser. The houselves had fixed his shattered mirror long ago, so he was looking at his own, full on reflection. Anymore he hated his reflection. Despised it almost. Anymore when he looked at himself, all he saw was a child trying to be a man. Was that what he was, simply a child? He wondered.

He wanted Granger to appear more often, be around more often. Be around _him_ more often? Why? Draco stared hard at his reflection. Why, why, why? Was he that lonely in this world? Were things around his that discombobulated that he needed- wanted the company of the inferior being known as Hermione Granger?

He stood now, shaking the wrinkles out of his clothes, attempting to make himself look presentable to the mirror. He straightened his tie, and attempted a devilish smirk into the reflective glass. He hardly succeeded. He frowned now, setting a hand lightly on the mirror. The preceding years had been... to much. Too much for him to bear. Every day he felt himself get weaker. His stamina reduce. He had to make up for it by being particularly rude and unhelpful to all, professors included. Now a days, the professors counted themselves lucky if he just sat in class as said nothing. At least he turned in all of his course work.

Draco sighed, letting his hand slide down the mirror. Why was he so weak? Especially now, when he needed to be so strong. So strong for his mother and father... for his family name which had almost be turned to cinders upon the defeat of Voldemort, for his house now that he was Head Boy.

He laughed aloud. Head Boy. What a joke. He was no more fit to be Head boy than that dupe, Weasly. He banged his head softly against the mirror, idly trying to convince himself that it wasn't true. That he had _earned_ this respect. Frowning, he knew he was wrong. Dumbledore had awarded him this position not because of his grades (which had always been excellent, by the way) nor for his social status (which after the Voldemort escapade had dwindled considerably) but out of pity. Dumbledore knew that Draco had sacrificed much for the fall of the Dark Lord. Perhaps no one knew better than Dumbledore, because on one of his weaker days, Draco had spilled it all. He frowned, remembering that day and sending himself further into a fit of despair.

Idly, his mind drifted back to the bushy haired Gryffindor. He didn't move, analyzing himself for a moment. Analyzing himself, and her. His already darkened eyes narrowed as he thought. Why would he need her? There were to many 'why's'. Far too many for his liking. Draco was a man who liked control... and at this point he didn't even have control of himself. This angered him. It angered him to the point of breaking things. So break things he would. He would break everything until he felt better. Until he could lay in the midst of shattered glass and wood and just not feel anymore. Not feel anything.

He picked up the thing nearest to him- some trinket his mother had given to him long ago. He threw it across the room, hitting a far wall and succeeding in shattering the trinket. He picked up the next thing- a lamp and that to was shattered in an instant. He began to break everything he could get his hands on, screaming and yelling in the midst of it and everything and nothing at all. Occasionally her would curse Granger, or his parents. Sometimes even Dumbledore, Voldemort or Harry Potter. Anything, anything to make his needs abate. Anything to make it all go away.

When he'd destroyed most of the contents of his room, he lay on his floor, exhausted. He didn't know how long he'd been in his fit, but he was tired, so tired. His face was hot and his limbs ached. He tried to get to his feet, and staggered, catching the edge of his dresser for support. He stared into his mirror again- the top right part of it cracked and shattered. What he saw he didn't like. A man without control, a child. He screamed again, releasing the dresser and falling to the floor, staring at the ceiling. He lay in the middle of his floor, amid the broken glass. His fists and face were bloodied, but he didn't care. The feelings would not abate, and nothing would let him be free.

He heard her voice at the door, but it was faint. Why so faint, she was only a few feet away... His eyes fluttered, and he wasn't sure what was happening. He heard her voice again, more urgent. Could he have her his name on her lips instead of her surname? Doubtful.

Granger burst through the door just before Draco's field of vision cut out. The last thing he saw was her worried face and bushy locks. Idly, his last thoughts were of how she got into his room. Magic, at this point, seemed upsurd, and he fell quickly into unconsciousness.

---

A/N well, it took me a little longer to crank this out than the first chapter. :P But I like it. Thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews on my first chapter! It really helped me get this one done. ;.; I hope I've kept well with Draco's cannon personality that everyone seemed to like so much. :D I have an idea for the next chapter, amazingly... so it may get done rather quickly. Still not sure of the ending, but I can't quite see it yet. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed, and I look forward to writing for you all again!

Update: Ah, another chapter spell checked and grammer-ised. Don't you guys feel loved:D


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 3

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

He touched her face, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his. So soft... why didn't he touch it more often? His thoughts darkened. Because she was filthy, vile and ugly. Because she was nothing. He squeezed her face, listened to her scream. Squeeze harder, harder... Tears began to fall, and one hit his hand. What was he doing? What was he doing, what was he doing, what was he doing!

Pain, sharp, stabbing agony in his frontal lobe. Draco let out a yell, thrashing about now.

"Settle down!" Who was that? He couldn't place the voice, and so ignored them, and continued. He couldn't see a thing, but perhaps his eyes were closed? He wasn't too sure anymore.

"Mr. Malfoy, calm yourself! You are in the hospital wing and I can't take care of you while your flailing like that!" It was Pomfrey. Now he placed her voice, but still he felt as if her body we moving involuntarily. He didn't need help, he was Draco Malfoy! He'd survived the wrath of 'He-who-must-not-be-named', Voldemort himself!

He felt the magic hit him, and sink into his veins even though he hadn't heard the spell. He had been to lost in his own thoughts to listen. Madame Pomfrey spoke now, her voice sounding exasperated as she did so.

"I swear, you'd think I was trying to kill you, boy!" She scolded him. Malfoy, eyes still squeezed shut, had a sour look upon his pale face. Pomfrey poked and prodded at him, but still he didn't dare sneak a look. Why, he wasn't so sure. Perhaps _she_ was still around... and he didn't want to see her. He frowned deeply, slowly remembering his last conscious moments. She'd seen him lose his control. She'd watched him fall prey to his own faults. God damn her! His body twitched violently due to his strong emotions, causing Madame Pomfrey to jump back.

"Now now..." She mumbled, going over him once again. He didn't feel her touching him, most likely for the better. He didn't know if he could handle being touched and knowing it. Soon, she'd finished, Draco's eyes shut still.

"He's suffering from severe exhaustion..." Pomfrey said. Draco heard her robes sift as she moved away from him. "He isn't eating right either, look at his face. Much paler than usual, and he's much to skinny. Something tells me he's pushing himself far to hard." Who was she talking to? A professor? Snape maybe, he was head of Slytherin. However, he was Head Boy now, not really able to discriminate against houses. He was still a Slytherin, but he doubted Snape would handle any of his affairs. Perhaps she was speaking to Dumbledore himself? Draco doubted that as well. Dumbledore was far to busy a wizard to deal with Draco's fits of rage and ill control.

"His cheeks are all sunken in as well... Do you know why he's been destroying everything in his room lately? Every night it seems he has these fits. He breaks things... everything. He never carries it out of his room, but I hear him screaming late at night..." _Her _voice! It was her, that Mudblood! She was standing there, telling Pomfrey of his life!_ His_ life! Granger had no fucking business telling anyone anything about him! He felt his body convulse again, thrashing on the bed. The binding spell was wearing off, and his anger was getting a good rise out of him.

The women in the room seemed to ignore him now. "I'm not sure. It's most likely an inner turmoil... It's no curse any anything of that sort." Pomfrey answered Granger. "I think I ought to keep him here for a while... to make sure the boy eats and sleeps."

He heard the swishing of robes, and then heard the door shut. Muted voice came through the door, ones he couldn't hardly hear or have any chance at eavesdropping on. He heard the door open and shut again... and more rustling of robes. Then... silence. It was eerie, this silence. His brow furrowed, and to anyone looking to him he looked as if in a fevered sleep.

Damn it. Damn it all. He hated this, hated everything. He wished he could move so he could break something. If he could only get his hands on something and tear it to pieces he'd feel better. If only he could just--

"Malfoy, I don't know what to do." Her voice. Her voice had interrupted his destructive thoughts. So it was Granger who had come back into the infirmary. He'd almost forgotten that the door had opened again after the two had left.

"You hurt everyone around you. You break your things and everything that comes out of your mouth is hurtful and demeaning." She must have thought he was asleep! That's why she was speaking to him like this; she didn't know that he was listening. Not that he had a choice, mind you. If he was able to move, able to peel his eyes open and snarl at her, he would. He wraps a hand around her pretty neck and squeeze until her cheeks turned blue!

"I am Head girl. I am a Gryffindor. I am a witch. But most importantly I am Hermione Granger, and that is what you hate most in the world isn't it? You'd think that after everything... after everything you would look past blood and into people." Draco's body shivered.

You'd think he would, wouldn't you? After Voldemort, after his father, after the fall of everything he'd ever held to be true and right. One would think he'd turn into the pillar of righteousness. If he could, Draco would have spat at her feet. Why, why should he turn into some kind of 'great one' after all this? There were few that could accept him after Voldemort's defeat. Even some of the professors still looked on him with distain. He saw the questions that ran through everyone's mind. 'How could you live like that?' 'Why did you do what you did?' 'How could you have thought that way?' 'Why didn't you run away?' 'Why did you listen?' It was all he'd known! He'd never know a family that he could come home to that would embrace him. His mother had once been that way. When he was a young child he'd known what love was, known how it felt to have doting parents that gave him what he wanted because they loved him and simply wanted him to be happy. However, once his father had fallen in with Voldemort, adopting the mad man's craze for power and hate for all muggle and muggle born witches and wizards alike... love had ceased to exist. Never again did his mother embrace him. When he cried he wasn't picked up and fretted over. He was struck, struck again and again until he didn't know what it was like not to hurt. Until tears were no more.

"I want to help you," she whispered. Why in the hell would she want to help him? She hated him, loathed him with the same passion he hated and loathed her. Draco didn't want her help, or anyone else's.

"If I could just... find a way _to_ help you." He heard playing with the hem of her robes. Even though she thought him asleep, she was still nervous, he could feel it.

"I know you won't accept my help lightly... and you will scorn me to begin with. But everyone breaks down after a while." Draco heard confidence in her voice. Why, why did she want to help him so badly? It just didn't make any sense at all! He felt strength returning to him, though he was still unable to really move. However, he felt he could open his eyes, so he did so.

His vision was cloudy at best, but getting better. He let things come into focus before he attempted at speech.

"Malfoy...?" She must have noticed his eyes fluttering open. The nervousness had returned to her voice. Now she was unsure, and damn good too! Draco was going to tell her off the second he could will his mouth open and let his lips form the words!

"Malfoy, you're awake! Oh, I was worried! I thought you'd dashed yourself into oblivion!" Was she excited? What in the hell? What had her friend's put in her pumpkin juice that morning!

Draco groaned slightly, before words could form. Now that his eyes were open, the light was making his head throb. He felt like vomiting, but kept that down should he not have the strength to roll over and vomit onto the floor. He felt a cool cloth on his forehead. Now his head hurt with more than just the irritation of light. He just couldn't grasp why this was happening. He knew, _knew_ that Granger loathed him, and why shouldn't she? Even Draco knew he was and always had been insufferable, egotistical and overall just plain nasty. He'd never had anything nice to say to Granger (the few words he'd spoken to her over the years, before they'd become head boy and girl) and had lately had even less to say to her. Not once had he ever uttered a kind word in her direction. Nor had he ever spoken well of any of her friends. Why was she like this, cooing over him like a hen? God dammit why!

"Why?" He'd gotten the word out. His voice sounded nothing like itself, gnarled and raspy. He was horribly sick, that much he could tell. It hurt his throat to speak. He swallowed, trying to make his throat less dry and scratchy. He succeeded it making it burn like fire, and that about covered it.

"Don't try to speak, you're very sick!" She was scolding him like some kind of child. How dare she speak to him that way, no one spoke to him that way!

Draco moved to sit up, and got half way there before a strong wave of nausea hit him. It hit him so hard in fact, that he began to fall off the side of the cot he was lying in. Granger caught him before he could fall completely, and he vomited directly at her feet. However, she didn't seem perturbed at all, instead simply agitated. But, not at the action, rather at the fact that he wasn't listening to her.

"Listen Malfoy, I know you don't like me and probably don't want to listen to me so how about this. Think about the state your in, and decide for yourself. Do you _want_ to get better? Or do you simply want to throw up until you totally dehydrate and lay on this cot and die!" Draco shivered in Granger's arms. He wasn't sure if it was because of vomiting, or because of whose arms he was in. Either way, he was uncomfortable.

Granger was wiping his face now, setting him up in a sitting position. She held onto him as she cleaned him up, dabbing a cool cloth to his cheeks and forehead. His eyes were narrowed into slits. Speaking had been painful, so he chose not to try again. He knew he wasn't strong enough to do anything anyway. For now he'd let Granger do what she wanted. In the end he'd get her. If he were passive now, later, when he felt better, she'd drop her guard. Maybe then he could just reach out and grab her. Shake her, strike her, throw her onto the ground! God he hated this, hated the feel of her hands on his body, touching his face and hair. Her soft dry skin coming into connect with his own damp, fevered skin. And dammit, he hated the way her feminine body made him feel. He could hardly stop his own eyes from watching every move she made. Everything she did... Dammit! He squeezed his eyes shut again. He just wouldn't look at her. Stupid mudblood. Stupid mudblood bitch! How dare she touch him, help him, show him any kind of care or affection! He'd kill her for this... slowly and painfully. He didn't want to feel anything. He didn't want to feel anything anymore and she was trying so hard. Trying so hard to make him feel something other than hate and malice.

Couldn't she he was dying! Everyday he killed himself a little more, he only wished he could get it done faster! His friends had deserted him, his father was hardly a shell of his former glory, his mother doting on his destroyed father and ignoring her only son. The people that should be thanking him only looked upon him with distain, with disgust. All anyone ever did was ask questions. They never just paused to think of what_ he_ had given up! What_ he_ had done for them! For these people that hated and loathed him, he'd sacrificed everything he'd ever known!

"Malfoy, Malfoy! Draco!" Granger was shaking him now, "Draco, calm down, nothing is going to hurt you, calm down!" He hadn't noticed, but his body had begun convulsing. Granger could hardly keep a hold of him, and nearly twice now he'd almost hit the floor.

"Let me go!" His voice was still hoarse, and not very load. Hardly loud enough to hear, and barely understandable. "Release me, mudblood!" He spat, his throat on fire as he tried to yell at her.

"No! You'll throw yourself onto the floor! All you'll do is hurt yourself worse! Why are you doing this, Malfoy? Why Draco, why!" She cried at him, trying to still him as he continued to try and break free.

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you!" Draco kept repeating it, and repeated it until he could do no more the mouth the words. He was exhausted again, heaving breathes of burning air. The tears were falling down his face and all he felt was shame. Shame that Granger was there to see his weakness yet again, shame that he still had tears to shed after everything that had happened, shame that someone like him could even cry. He stopped thrashing simply because he could do it no more. His body ached and he still felt Granger's arms around him. He slumped like some kind of rag doll, and she let his rest against her. No coherent thoughts ran through his brain as the filthy mudblood girl stroked his hair back, and spoke kind words to him. He didn't think about anything as she told him it would be all right, and that she would forgive him for everything he'd ever said to her. The tears the fell from his eyes weren't for the fact that she told him she understood he was lonely, that she understood the pain and despair he felt. She made promises, promises that she would help, that she would make sure he was never lonely, even if he did hate her. She assured him she hated him to, hated everything he'd done and everything he did. She assured him he could do better, and once he had. He'd done things she didn't hate, that others didn't hate.

But he didn't weep for any of that. Not at her touch, or her words or at her soft voice. No... no he didn't weep for any of that. He didn't.

---

A/N: o.o took a while to get out, huh! I'm progressing the Hermione/ Draco bit of this a little more now. We're seeing some insight as to why Draco does what he does, and we'll see more insight as it goes on. And please, nobody think Hermione is turning into some crazy person either. :P She will explain herself, I promise. Draco, like many of you I'm sure, is having a major difficulty understanding why she is helping. Don't fret guys! It'll all be explained... soon. :D!

Update: Yes, chapter 3 ready to be looked upon as real work instead of an insane drabble of misspellings and grammar mistakes! Happiness!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 4

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

---

Draco's eyes fluttered. It was night; it had to be for he couldn't see to far around him. All was dark, save for a few candles on the table beside his bed. He made to sit up, pushing his upper body up. A dull pain was throbbing in his head, but it wasn't to bad. How long had he been out? He glanced around, he was in his room, no longer in the hospital wing. His eyes settled on a sleeping form in the large chair at his sitting area. He focused on the feminine form of the woman he knew was sleeping there. She slumped, large book in her lap, open and slid almost off of her legs as she slept. Draco crawled to the end of his bed to get a better look at her.

She was breathing softly, and she had dark bags beneath her eyes. Her wand was set on the table beside the chair, and several vials of potion strewn across it, some open and empty, others full and waiting. Had she been here, taking care of him? He shook his head, sitting again on his bed staring at her form. Why? God, he didn't understand! This was his childhood nemesis. If at all possible, they hated each other more than he and Potter hated each other.

Granger shifted, the book falling to the floor with a thud. She rubbed at her eyes, yawning quietly. She looked at him now, through a sleepy, half lidded gaze. Suddenly, she realized he was awake.

"Oh, Malfoy! How long have you been awake?" She asked, getting to her feet. She wore a short cotton nightgown with an off-white blanket wrapped around her. She dropped the blanket into the chair as she walked over to the side of Draco's bed.

For a moment, Draco couldn't find his voice. Hermione was deftly touching his face, checking his temperature and asking silly questions such as 'does this hurt?' 'Can you wiggle your toes?' 'What about your fingers?' He stared at her, she seemed to have gone through these motions before, touching him and checking him.

"How long have I been asleep?" was the first question he managed to squeeze out. He'd ask more later, but for now he wanted to know how long he had been unconscious, how much he needed to make up. He just couldn't afford this illness.

"Almost a week now..." Granger said, now sitting beside him on the bed. A week? He'd missed a week of classes, just lying here. A dull anger swept through him at his own inability to keep himself healthy enough to at least stay conscious.

"You look much better than you did when I found you. You have some color back to you, and Madame Pomfrey prescribed something to keep you well nourished." Granger was smiling at him. She was smiling_ at_ him. He stared at her, trying to find the words to express his confusion. He felt anger, but didn't feel the energy needed to hurt the woman before him. He leaned back now, against his mass of crumpled pillows. Granger fretted over them, fluffing them around him, trying to see to his comfort. He still stared at her.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco finally asked. Granger's face fell slightly, but she quickly brought her smile back.

"Nothing! I am simply taking care of a fellow classmate! You are Head Boy after all, and you need to be healthy in order to keep up with your responsibilities, and do your class work on top of the other word expected of you, and-" she had ended her rambling abruptly, both of them noticing that she was just filling up space with her words. She quieted, looking away from him.

"You hate me." He said squarely. For once there was no malice in Draco Malfoy's voice, only pure fact. He was stating what they both knew to be true, and what had been true for years. "You hate me, so why? Why do this for me?" He asked, staring hard at her. Granger shrugged slightly, trying to hide whatever answer she had.

"Tell me!" Draco's voice rose instantly, hating to be ignored. Granger turned to look at her, her smile gone and anger apparent in her tired face.

"I know what you did." She hissed at him, staring back into his cold gray eyes. She knew what he did? He almost laughed.

"And what is it I did, Granger? What great thing did I do to deserve all you've done for me?" That Malfoy cockiness was back in his voice. He crossed his arms loosely as he watched her from his pillows. She frowned at him.

"... You saved everyone. You... you sacrificed everything you ever had for... for the people that hated you." Her voice was hardy a whisper. He stared at her, and blind fury suddenly gripped him. He lunged forward, grabbing her by her neck and throwing her onto the floor.

She hit the floor with a grunt, and immediately her hands began to try prying Draco's fingers from her neck. Draco straddled her flat stomach, leaning his weight onto her as he attempted to squeeze her airway shut.

"Look where it's gotten me, Granger! Look at me! I don't even know what I am anymore! I'm not a boy, I'm not a Malfoy!" He yelled at her, watching her defiant gaze against the hands squeezing at her neck. "My sacrifice has gotten me nothing but pain, anguish! If I could change it, I would, Granger. I would! I am not some savior, some fucking hero! I was a misguided youth, some pawn in the big picture! Now what do I have! I have nothing! I have no family, no one to turn to, no one I can trust! All because I saved the people who hate me! I wish I would have let them all die!" He yelled, squeezing her throat harder.

Tears swelled up in Hermione Granger's eyes. As they poured down her cheeks and over Draco's fingers, he loosened his grip. Their would be bruising around her neck, but she could breathe at least. She touched his arm, sliding her hand up it to his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry everyone has treated you the way they have." She said, sounding sincere. Draco snarled at her, his hands now resting on the floor beside her head.

"You're sorry? Why, why would you be sorry? It's not like the sacrifices I made mean anything to you!" He said, unable to think of something better. "You don't know anything of what happened, you don't know anything, Granger!"

Beneath him, she sniffed. She brought a hand to the collar of his button down pajama shirt.

"I know more than you think I do." She said, unbuttoning his shirt. What the fuck was she doing? He stared as her hands unbutton the entirety of his shirt. She traced the abrasive scars on his chest with her delicate fingers.

"After the first time I came to your room, asking you about the broken mirror, I went to Dumbledore." Draco stared at the girl beneath him. She'd gone to the headmaster? That old fool must have told her what had happened with Voldemort and the Death-Eaters! He must have told this filthy little mudblood all of Draco's dirty little secrets, that bastard!

"He told me that you had gone through... great pain and suffering for us. For everyone, wizards and muggles alike. He... He told me that you faced _him_ on your own, before Harry came. He told me they did awful things to you when they found out you'd betrayed them... That you'd been hurt so badly, and wounded so horribly that at first Dumbledore hadn't thought you would make it." She was whispering to him again. Draco wasn't sure what to say. He just... wasn't sure.

"He said you would have died trying to save everyone, should it have come down to it." Draco frowned. Those words were true, once upon a time. He would have gladly died at Voldemort's hands, or at the hands of any other Death-Eater to save these... people. These people that loathed him for what he was and what he had done. When his parents abandoned him for Voldemort he had been crushed. When they invited him into their circle, he'd been elated. When he found out what a psychopath the Dark Lord was... he'd been infuriated. Infuriated that his parents could be used in such a way, that all the people he'd even known and trusted could be used in such a way. Infuriated that he'd been used in such a way.

"I would have." Draco said coldly, "I would have died. But who would have cared? One old man would have come to Draco Malfoy's grave to grieve. To grieve over a student who could have given so much more, to grieve over a little boy with no power and not enough intelligence to keep himself alive." He said, frowning deeply. "I should have stuck with what I knew, what everyone hated me for. At least then I would be dead, and not have to live this accused shadow of a life I've been granted!" Abruptly Draco removed himself from Granger's body, standing, and holding the chair she had previously been occupying for balance.

"No! You made the right choice, Draco!" Granger was sitting up now, trying to stand on wobbly legs. "You did, I swear it! I... can't apologies enough for how everyone has treated you, for how... I have treated you." She was finally standing, frowning as she tried not to let the tears fall again.

Draco laughed harshly. "And I should care that one little mudblood sees me in a different light? That one filthy little human being cares that I almost lost my life for... for what? For muggles and muggle-borns?" He laughed again, shaking his white blonde hair to a fro. He brought a hand up to his forehead, covering his eyes and the string of tears.

"For the entire wizarding world." Granger was ignoring his insults now, something that riled him. He was angry, why should she be some fucking calm?

"I'm so happy that the sacrifice of everything I ever knew could result in the saving of everything everyone else ever knew." He spat venomously. Granger took several bold steps towards him and he turned towards her, glaring at her. His body was rigid, and she brought her hand up to his face.

She slapped him.

Draco stared at her, the redness in his cheek still stinging. She had struck him with no fear, none at all. She stared into his eyes, watching the emotions pass through him.

"I don't need you." Draco said quietly, seemingly trying to convince himself as well as the girl... woman before him. He made no move to strike her in return.

"But you want me." She said, watching his face. His mind was racing. The confrontation they'd had over her avoiding the common room, avoiding him. His constant watching, almost stalking over her.

"You could never understand me." He said as she stepped closer to him, "You'd never want me in return." He said dejectedly. Hermione reached her arms up to take hold of his head and shoulders, to bring him closer to her in an embrace.

"I can make my own decisions, Draco Malfoy." She said as he let her bring him back to bed. She sat, and he allowed her to lay his body against her own, as he rested his head against her breasts.

"I want you to tell me everything, I want you to share everything with me. This will be... our secret." She was stroking his hair as his eyes drooped, one arm clinging to her body.

"You have to act no different outside our chambers. You don't have to do anything but share with me. Share you space, your time and your energy. I will be here for you, you need only to take the first step." She whispered quietly into his ear.

Thoughts swirled around Draco's mind. Was it wise to tell Granger everything? Well who fucking cared. What was she going to do, blackmail him? It's not like his life could get any worse. At the very least... at the very least he could have something for just tonight. He could pretend she'd really be there in the morning, after they had stopped talking and he'd slept and awoken with the dawn. He could pretend someone really cared about his well being, that someone... loved him.

Then, he began to talk. Draco began to share every aspect of his life with the girl, woman he'd hated all of his academic life. He told her of his childhood, what it was like growing up in the Malfoy home. What it was like to have to live up to such a name, such a family. He told her of his parents and how they were before Voldemort... and after. He shared with her everything he'd ever known, why he'd done everything he had ever done. He lay in Hermione Granger's arms and shared his whole like with her... every trial and triumph... and she listened. She listened to everyone word he said without interruption or question. When he was angry, she stroked his hair in a comforting motion. When he despaired, she kissed his forehead tenderly showing her support. She even smiled when he told her his proudest moments.

For the first time in years, many years, Draco held a feeling of contentment. He buried his face in Hermione's body, letting his tears soak her nightgown. His tears weren't out of anger, sadness or confusion. They were simply tears that could be shed with someone who cared, someone who cared if he lived or died, cared that he sacrificed so much, cared that he was trying... and cared to be with him.

God, what was wrong with the world that he, Draco Malfoy was laying with Hermione Granger, enjoying the soft smell of her hair and the cool touch of her fingers against his skin. The worst part of it was that he did enjoy it. How he enjoyed it, loved it... and God how he wanted it. Oh God how he wanted everything that was her...

--

A/N: I wrote it all in one sitting, cause I am crazy like that. :D There was less extreme violence in this chapter, and I'm attempting to get into the Dr/ Hr aspect of this. Don't worry, there will be more fighting, etc. Questions will arise and screaming matches will ensue. I am even contemplating -eyes dart around- _smut_! -gasps!- but no one heard that. :P I just want to also take this time to thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews. I never ever though anyone would enjoy my story as much as you guys are. It makes me so happy I just can't... handle it :D I love you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 5

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

---

The dreaded morning after, only no memories of a good fuck. Only memories that tore at his brain and made him want to vomit. God he needed a shower. Draco lifted his head, opening his eyes. His whole body then instantly froze. He stared down at Hermione Granger laying in his bed, tangled up in his dark green duvet, night gown slid off her right shoulder. Why was she still there? Draco had told himself that she would be gone come morning, that she just wanted him to start being quieter at night so she herself could sleep. He'd never, not ever believed that she could possibly hold something for him.

She shifted on the bed, turning into him and reaching an arm over his body. She had no idea who he was! That was the answer. He would wake her up, and she'd scream at him for trying to rape her or something, that... that had to be it. So, he was going to get it over with. He would wake her so she could blame him for whatever it was she was going to blame him for, then he could shower and ready for classes. He shook her gently; even with his thoughts of disaster he couldn't bring himself to wake her with a start.

Granger's eyes fluttered open, and she yawned quietly. She was rubbing an eye with the heel of her hand as she looked up at him. A smile graced her lips as she moved to sit up, Draco staring unabashedly at her, mouth slightly ajar. She wasn't screaming, she hadn't thrown a single object at his head nor accused him of hexing her.

"Good morning, Draco." She said, sliding off the bed, and adjusting her nightgown. "You stay up here, I'm sure you'll want to shower," She was brushing a hand through her hair, talking around a yawn as she stood next to his bed. "and I'll go get you some breakfast. You haven't eaten anything solid since your little spell, so it'll be good to start small, alright?" She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead like a mother doting on her son. With that, she turned on her heel and exited his room.

Hermione Granger just walked out of his room... without a look of contempt, an uttered spell, or a screaming fit. In fact, she'd walked out of his room with mussed hair and a slightly askew nightgown, a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. Hell had frozen over. That, or Draco had died and this was the few lighthearted moments before he was thrown into Hell. He'd walk out of this room and he'd meet the Devil himself, waiting to take him to be tortured for the rest of eternity.

Draco got out of his bed, sliding a robe over his open pajama shirt. Without tying it, he threw open the door from his room into the common room. Everything looked as it should. No flaming depths of the underworld, or little demons with pitchforks. Simply the common room he'd been sharing with Granger for what seemed like so long now. Parchments were scattered along the tables, as were several library books.

Christ, it was all real. Everything he'd experienced had been real. He'd told Granger everything, his whole life, every weakness he had. He'd expected her to leave him, but she hadn't. She stayed with him, let him fall asleep holding her, and had held him in return. Draco wasn't used to this, not at all. He sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs in the common room, staring blankly at the wall, trying to grasp all of this.

She cared. She really cared. His enemy of enemies, the woman that would have seen him tortured and killed just a year ago... had spent the night in his chambers, letting him soak her nightgown with his tears for a family and a life lost to the Dark Lord. Oh God. Oh God, oh God...

Just then, Hermione came spilling through the door, carrying a plate and the daily prophet. She wore her uniform, though no robes, her tie was undone, shirt barely tucked in and no socks on her shoed feet.

"Draco! I thought you'd be taking a shower. Class starts in hardly an hour, are you going to be able to get ready? I don't know how long it takes you to shower and be presentable, but you have to eat as well!" She was scolding him, setting the plate on the table amidst the books. A honeyed biscuit and a sliced apple lay on the plate.

"You stayed all night." Draco said to her now, as she was coming over to him, probably to continue scolding him for not already showering. She stopped, seeming to think of her answer.

"Well... yes." She nodded, her messy hair bouncing with the movement of her head, "Of course. I couldn't... just leave you to your own demise. You shared your life with me, everything about yourself. When you fell asleep I just couldn't leave you to deal with your torments all alone." She gave an embarrassed chuckle. She seemed so uninhabited now. She spoke to him as if they had spoken on friendly terms all their lives.

Draco put a hand to his forehead, "I can't... believe it." He muttered, eyes searching the floor as if it had the answer to all his questions. He couldn't dredge up any reason for this to be happening. She was impressed by his sacrifices, yes. She knew he could have very well turned the other cheek on everyone, and perhaps Hogwarts and Dumbledore would no longer be standing. But... that didn't make up for years or torment, did it?

"Well, believe it. Now, I ran into Professor McGonagall on my way back, and told her you'd be in class today! Don't make a liar out of me Draco Malfoy! Let's get you cleaned and dressed!" She said, now grasping his arm and tugging him to a standing position. He stared at her as she half led, half dragged him to his room, and into his bathroom.

His bathroom was large, just like her's. A bathtub that was sunk into the floor, and large enough to accommodate at least three people. Everything was gorgeous and ornate, however they hadn't come in to admire it. Hermione began to run the water, making sure it was warm before plugging the drain. She turned to look at him, and helped him with his robe as the water filled the tub.

"Now, as soon as the tub is full, get in. I'd advise you to be quick about it to, because I will be back in to make sure you're hurrying! Plus I am going to go gather up your uniform and such." He shooed him to the edge of the tub before turning and exiting, hardly shutting the door before going to riffle through his things.

"She's running my bathwater." Draco mumbled, staring down at the steaming water. It was, of course, charmed to stay hot and to fill only to a certain degree. When the water stopped, Draco sighed and slid out of the rest of his clothing. She'd probably give him enough time to wash up before she returned. He leaned back in the tub, water coming to mid chest as he did so.

The door opened again, and Draco turned to see Hermione setting clothes out on a dressing table a few feet away. She glanced at a clock on the wall and frowned. She turned him, face carrying nary a blush.

"You haven't even washed your hair yet!" She exclaimed, dropping to her knees and stealing his shampoo. She was going to wash his hair as well now? Surely she was daft, lost her mind! He pulled away from her to begin with, beginning to ask her if she was out of her bushy haired head.

"Now Draco, don't be shy," She said, now her cheeks beginning to color as she grabbed a handful of his hair before he could fret away to quickly. She was gentle however as she tugged his head to a position she could work with. "You were out for a week. Didn't you notice you don't reek? I have been taking care of you nearly on my own for the whole week." She said, making sure to keep him facing away from her so he couldn't see her reddened face.

God, did she have any more surprises lurking about? So she'd bathed him as well... God. He had no dignity about him when he was with her did her? Not only had he bared his soul to her, but apparently his being as well. He settled into her comforting hands as they scrubbed at his hair.

She finished with his hair and picked up her previously discarded wand to help with the removal of the shampoo from his hair. She then reached around him, setting the body soap in his hands.

"Though I have practice, I am sure you'd be much more comfortable washing yourself." She said, her hand trembling slightly as he took the body wash. He watched her hand, and an old smirk came to his face. So, she'd washed all of him had she? She must think he was awfully good looking, those hands trembling like that. Draco shook off those thoughts, trying to chase the grin off his face as well. He nodded, not turning to look at her, something he knew she'd be grateful again.

He heard her get up and busy herself with his robes, making sure they were clean and wrinkle free. When he finished washing himself, he turned to look at her. She had his back to him, trying to give him as much privacy as she could. She was mumbling to herself, as she straightened his tie once, twice, and then a third time. Draco found himself smiling without meaning to. She fretted of the most trivial of things. The tie wasn't even on him yet.

"... Hermione." Her name was foreign on his lips, but he just couldn't use her surname anymore. She'd wasted too much of her time on him to still be treated with such hostility and rudeness. He may as well try to return the favors she was admitting him. She turned to look at him, noticing he was finished. She carried over two towels, holding them out for him as she averted her eyes so he could get out of the tub.

Draco did so, taking one towel to dry himself, before wrapping it around his waist. She turned to him again, brandishing a smile to try and cover the twinge of a blush on her face.

"Feel a bit more like yourself now that you're clean?" She asked, flipping the other towel over his head to dry his hair. After toweling it a bit, she let the towel fall around his shoulders, and coaxed him over to the dressing table. She had him sit before he could dress, and she finished drying his hair with a spell, and brushed it out quickly. She then had him put on his undergarments, turning again to give him privacy. She allowed him to pull his pants on before turning, and fussing more. She buttoned his shift for him, let him pull his sweater vest on, but did his tie herself. She smoothed all the fabric out, and helped him into his robes, adjusting those as well.

"You're shoes are at the door, and I'll be back in the common room in a moment!" She said, taking one last tug at his tie before rushing out of his bathroom. Draco looked after her, then turned to look at himself in the mirror. In his opinion he looked better than he had in months. As of late, he'd simply been throwing his uniform on, hardly taking time to brush his hair or anything of the sort. Hermione seemed to be making sure he felt like his old self, sturdy and handsome. Draco quickly brushed his teeth before exiting. He found his shoes and socks at the door, as promised and proceeded to put them on.

Hermione came out of her own room a moment later, wand pointed at her head and muttering some spell to tame her wild tresses. After a few failed attempts, she tucked her wand behind her ear and decided it was worthless to try any more. However, she took a look at Draco, a smile gracing her face again.

"You look so much better, Draco." She said warmly, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Draco to had gathered his things. Hermione glanced at her watch, "We're going to be late if we don't hurry!" She said, shooing him out the door. After closing it, she turned to look at him once more, fretting over the non-existent wrinkles in his robes.

"Now just take your time through classes, alright? Don't stress too much over anything, I'll help you with what you have to make-up. Don't worry at all, just take it easy." She smiled, seemingly satisfied with his looks. And, admittedly, he looked great. He hadn't looked like himself in forever, but now he was as classy as ever. If only he'd smile, just to make his little make over complete.

"Thank you, Hermione." Draco whispered. He didn't say this lowly so as not to be heard, more for the fact that he wasn't used to thanking anyone and wasn't sure how to get the emotion across. She smiled at him.

"It's not a problem at all. Now get to class, and I'll see you in Transfiguration, alright?" She touched his face with a soft hand, letting her fingers trail down his jaw line. Draco stared into her eyes, bewilderment in his own. She cared so much for someone who was so cruel and inhumane.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd taken the back of her head into his hand and leaned down to catch her lips with his own. Her hand hadn't left the side of his face, and still it stayed. She allowed him to kiss her chastely, before he pulled away, opening his eyes to stare into hers.

"Get to class Draco." She said softly, patting his face now, then turning to dart off. Draco stared after her, and touched his lips. Since he was a child, he'd been told half bloods were filthy, disgusting, unintelligent and weak. Hermione Granger was none of these, yet her blood was as muddled as they came. Hermione Granger was beautiful, talented, intelligent and strength brimmed from her very soul.

He felt it again, the same feeling he'd had last night. He wanted her, everything about her. But his heart clenched in his ribcage. She didn't need someone like him and he didn't deserve her. She doted on him too much, fretted over everything. She deserved... someone more fitting. What he felt, he guessed was what people described as their heart breaking. He'd have to tell her. He'd make her stop this nonsense, realize she needn't do all of this simply because he'd done what he had. He realized now it had been his choice, and he had made it. He had sacrificed everything, and he was going to have to learn to accept his new life. With the much-needed boost Hermione had given him, he felt he had a chance to live in peace. But, he wouldn't allow her to sacrifice her own way of life for him. He knew she had friends who would never accept him... especially those closest to her.

Yes, he'd speak with her that evening, make her see the error in her ways. God, it hurt already... but he'd do it. He'd ensure her life would be fulfilling, and she would go on to do great things, rather than fret over his stupid mistakes. He would.

--

A/N: again, written in one sitting. I tried to pay more attention to my spelling/ grammar. I am actually really good at both, but in my haste to write, I type incorrectly. ;.; then in my eagerness to post this, I don't beta. O.o;; I think I will begin reposting chap. 1-4 all cleaned up so no one can laugh at me anymore. :P

Anyway, I hope I didn't make Draco seem too much like a sissy. ! I knew everyone was loving his craziness, but it is going to return. He's going through that shock stage right now. He'll be angry next chapter, I assure yeh. :D Tell me what you guys think, I can't wait to hear it all!

Update: Someone give me a cookie. This grammar/ spell check thing on all chapters is killing me!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 6

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

---

The day's classes came and went. Draco spent most of his class time attempting to catch up what he'd missed, collecting work and books as he went. By the end of the day, he had quite the stack of things he needed to get finished, and an exhausted look on his face. He was beginning to think that he'd let Hermione fret over him for a few more days, just so he could get some rest and get back to full strength. Smirking, he also knew he didn't want to pass up the chance of seeing her in her nightie again. However, he squashed that thought. Hermione had been taking care of him, something she hardly needed to do. He shouldn't be thinking of her in such a crude manner!

Sighing, he tried not to let his mind drift back to his old Malfoy ways or towards a new pristine Draco. Both, at this point were sickening to look at. Couldn't he just be... normal, like other people? Why did he have to choose between supreme villain or grand deity? Draco switched his books into the opposite arm, his left one becoming tired of the weight. Arriving at the gargoyle to the Head boy and girl's common room and speaking the password, he was thankful that it moved itself.

Upon entering he saw Crookshanks curled up on the top of one of the sofas. The animal turned its furry head up to look at him, then lay back down with hardly a glance. Draco scowled lightly at it, as he headed walked to the other sofa, dropping his books and his bag on it. He stared at it all for a second, before decided to dress a bit more comfortably before settling in for a long night.

Hermione walked in not even five minutes after he did, waving someone off at the door, scolding them as she did so. She turned to look at Draco, who now sat on the sofa wearing a soft pair of pajama pants and a wife-beater's shirt. She smiled at him.

"Have a good day today? You did well in Transfiguration, I saw you write down all your notes." She said with a chuckle, neatly setting her things on the coffee table. Draco tried to smile back at her, but he knew he was going to have to talk to her tonight. Hermione was loosening her tie with one hand and flipping through an assignment book with the other. Draco watched her, etching every movement into his memory. After tonight she may not look at him again, and he wouldn't get the chance to look so closely at her again.

She turned to him, pulling some extra parchment from her back, and neatly written on to hand to him. Draco watched her, and politely took the parchment. Then, Hermione idly began speaking to him, telling him of her day and asking him silly questions about his. He answered shortly, paying attention to every detail of her voice and face without trying to seem like he was doing so. After a few moments of this, he took a breath and decided it was time.

"Stop, Hermione." He said, his voice more of a grumble than anything. He didn't want her to stop, of course. He could listen to her silky voice for hours and never tire of it. But, it had to stop, didn't it? He couldn't let this happen to her. She couldn't let herself care about him.

She turned to look at him, blinking. She blushed, obviously thinking that he meant for her to stop talking. She nervously tucked some hair behind her ear, not used to this.

"I'm sorry Draco, I was just rambling on and on, I didn't even stop to think that you may just want to work--" Draco waved a hand to cut her off. She took a seat beside him, though half a cushion away.

"I meant, stop all this. Everything you're doing." She only stared at him more, confused. He frowned, not wanting to have to explain himself, just wanting her to follow orders.

"All this fretting over me. Just stop... caring." He said, staring into her honeyed eyes. She stared back in response, her lips forming a thin line now.

"What do you mean, 'stop caring'? I can't just simply forget you exist, Draco. You are you're silly mood swings, and-"

"That's right, Granger, _my_ silly mood swings. Just stay out of it." He said, raising his voice. He knew that telling her nicely wasn't going to sway her. He knew being cruel just this once wasn't going to stop it either. He was going to have to turn into a real prat again.

"But... But Draco, I don't mind helping you, or being here for you. I don't! I just want to-" Again, he cut her off.

"Look, I don't want your help, Granger! I can do fine on my own! Look, thanks for helping me and whatever, but just lay off." He growled, his eyes flashing. Hermione was obviously hurt at the use of her surname instead of her given, but she still tried.

"Why, why are you being like this? I thought that... I thought... I don't know! That you'd changed! We... we shared things, you and I! We have... something, right?" She pleaded, tears brimming her eyes. God he felt like such a fuck for doing this to her. She looked so dreadful crying like that, like a lost kitten.

"Look, you helped me. I can't deny it. But there's nothing. You were just there when I needed something. End of fuckin' story." She said, now standing abruptly to look down on her. He'd had far too much practice in being a cold blooded Slytherin. It was coming back easy... However, if he looked at her much longer his face was going to redden with the pent up emotion.

"Now just leave me alone. I'm sure Potter and Weasel have been wondering where you are, anyway." She said, waving a hand sarcastically, as if he could care less. He gathered up what he'd been working on, and turned his back on her.

"But, Draco!" She yelled at him, leaping to her feet and lunging for him. She touched his arm, and he turned on her, grabbing her wrist. He twisted it, only hard enough to hurt her a little, and it destroyed him to do it.

"Don't use my first name anymore, it hurts my ears to hear it on your tongue." He growled, his eyes silvering. She stared into his face, searching it for anything, anything at all. But Draco Malfoy had been taught by the best, to hide emotions and cow people into believing what he wanted them to believe. He tossed her arm back to her, and she held it as if he had bit her and drew blood.

"You're a bastard, Malfoy." She hissed now, eyes darkened, but she wouldn't look at him now. "You're an ungrateful bastard, and I hate you." The words struck him right in the chest, and he thought he'd fall. However, he simply turned his back on her, going to his door and slamming it behind him. He left her sitting now in the common room, trying not to make so much noise in her weeping.

"God, I'm such a bloody prat." He said, sliding down his door, dropping his things to the side and he set his face in his hands. Silent tears trailed down his pale face, as he wondered how he could do something to someone so pure? He reminded himself that it was needed to be done. She deserved someone like Potter or Weasly... someone who wasn't like him. Draco Malfoy was tainted; he'd done awful things for a pathetic Lord in the name of what? In the name of hate for muggle-borns? How fucking close-minded could one be? They were acting like the muggles a hundred years ago, hating others just for their skin color. Now instead, they tried to hate each other for their ways of life.

He stared at the floor through his fingers and wondered just how he was going to get through the rest of the year like this. He was a wreck, and now he could really feel it. That morning, with Hermione fretting over him so, he'd been in shock. But beneath the shock, he'd loved every second of it. He'd just glowed beneath her little quips.

"Oh God, baby I'm going to miss you... and everything that will never happen..." Draco grumbled, shaking his head and sinking far deeper into despair.

Hermione sat in the Great Hall the next morning in between Potter and Weasly. Potter sat beside the Weaselette, staring into her eyes like some love struck idiot. It made Draco sick. Weasly wasn't even paying attention o Hermione as she spoke, he was staring across the table at God knew what, Draco didn't take the time to find out. Instead, he sat at the Slytherin table silently.

He felt Hermione's gaze shift to him, felt her staring at him for any sort of sign. God, she still didn't want to give up. He looked up, and stared right at her, eyes hard and gaze molten. He sneered, before looking away, filling his plate with food. He knew he shouldn't eat so much after not having eaten solid food in so long. But with any luck he'd be bent over the toilet later that day instead of transfiguration with her. Pansy initiated conversation with him, and he grunted answers at her, enough to make her think he cared at least partly about what she was saying.

Weasly must have noticed Hermione staring at him, because he'd started yelling at her. Inwardly Draco smirked, how would Weasly like it if he'd known that Hermione had kissed him in the hall the other day, eh? Draco just wanted to walk up to the red headed little bastard and sock him good, just because he could. That, and he knew that Weasly had always had something for Hermione, she'd just never let him go anywhere with it. His smirk dissolved instantly into a frown as he thought that Hermione would finally give the Weasel a chance now that Draco had shot her down so bad. Christ he hated that bastard.

"Draco, Jesus, are you even paying attention to me?" Pansy was whining. God dammit. He turned to look at her, idly swiping some hair form his face,

"Of course, Pans. I always listen to you." He lied. Looking back, he could hardly recall a conversation between the two of them that he'd never really paid full attention to her. Oh well. At any rate she was pleased by his answer, and by then it was time for class anyway.

As he'd predicted, the onslaught of food and brought a foul ache in his stomach, followed by the purging of the entire contents of his gut. He had made it to the Head common room at any rate, and now leaned against his bathroom wall, attempting to catch his breath before another wave of nausea hit him. He stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out just what he was going to do. He couldn't avoid her forever; he was going to have to continue what he'd started. God, this was fucking bad.

He heaved again, stress and the idiocy of eating solid food so soon after his illnesses getting to him. This was awful, bloody awful. He couldn't picture his life getting any worse should the Dark Lord come back from the dead and want vengeance on his betrayer.

He heard Hermione come in. He didn't hear her door shut though, and strained to listen. What was she doing in the common room? It really was none of his business; it was as much her common room as it was his.

"Don't be to depressed Hermione. It was just Malfoy, you know that." Ah, Potter's voice. Draco snarled in disgust. The two must have thought Draco was skeeving class.

"I know but Harry... Harry he did so much. Something like all that could get to someone, even Draco Malfoy." She sounded concerned. Dammit, Hermione, stop being so concerned about everyone else's well being! Worry about your own!

"Look Hermione. He's obviously made it clear that it's not your problem. I think... I think he's done you a favor. Caring about Malfoy will only cause he grief." How right Potter was. But it strung to hear it from someone else. So, he truly had made the right decision hadn't he?

"Don't you even say that!" Hermione sounded angry now, "He's a good boy. He's a good_ man_. He's done a lot for everyone! He... he sacrificed a lot you know!"

"Like what? He's still a bloody rich git, still popular! He's still going to get his excellent grades, have his choice of a pureblooded wife with hardly the bat of an eye! His family is still alive, even his wretched father!" Potter raised his voice her Hermione, but she obviously wasn't going to have it.

"Don't you even start with me on that Harry Potter! You know very well that Draco went through a lot to give our side information! He went directly against His orders! Serious harm came to him, you know that!" She cried.

"He's still Malfoy, and he's still who he is! You never really change, Hermione! He'll always be how he is. He just took advantage of your kindness for a day, that's all!" Hermione had broken into sobs now, Draco could hear it. The bile was rising in his throat again, and without hardly meaning to, he retched into the bowl again. Silence from the common room.

Potter strode through Draco's bathroom door as if he belonged, and that much was enough to anger him. "Get the fuck out of my rooms." Draco croaked, anger apparent through even his scratchy voice. Potter glared down at him, and Draco made to get up off the ground.

"You leave Hermione alone, you two faced bastard." He breathed. Draco stood now, wiping the remains of his breakfast from his face. He was paler than usual, and sweat beaded at his brow. Hermione stood behind Potter, looking over his shoulder.

"Fuck you Potter. Fuck you." Draco spat, hardly recognizing his own voice. Potter frowned even deeper.

"You're still pathetic. I don't care what you've done, you'll never be worth my time." He said, as if he could actually hurt Draco with those words. The Malfoy heir laughed, his legs nearly collapsing beneath him. However, he leaned his back against the wall for support.

"Worth your time? Potter, what the fuck makes you think I _want_ to be worth your fucking time? I'm glad you've taken up your place as God, but fuck me if I give a shit!" Draco said. Potter glared, and pulled back an arm to punch him. Draco scrambled out of the way in hardly time to spare, rather unlike himself. Potter winced as his fist connected with the wall rather than the soft flesh of Draco's cheek.

Draco stood hardly a foot from Hermione now, and she was staring at him, wide eyed. He looked at her, and frowned. His eyes flashed for a moment, before Potter turned on his again.

"Stand still, so I can beat you in one place, Malfoy!" He called, running of the anger driven by a friend who's been hurt. Draco didn't have it in him to move again, so he let the pain come. He deserved it anyway, so why bother? Potter's fist connected with his nose, sufficiently breaking it as Draco fell to the floor.

He lay on his back, blood spilling down his cheeks and to the floor, pooling at his head and soaking his hair. Hermione was at his side in a second, only to be pulled up by the arm by Potter.

"Don't fret over him Hermione. He doesn't want that, remember? He just wants to be left alone." Potter said, echoing Draco's earlier words to Hermione.

"But Harry, he's bleeding!" She said, hysteria in her voice. Potter tugged at her, to keep her from dropping to her knees again.

"Just get out of my rooms." Draco mumbled, staring at the ceiling, "Get the fuck out of my rooms and don't fuckin' come back." Draco sat up, holding his sleeved arm to his face to absorb some blood. "You got you knock in, so fucking get out and don't let me see you again, Potter." he growled, staring at the pair.

Potter glared at him before turning to exit, tugging Hermione along. She glanced back at him several times, but Draco held nothing but malice in his eyes. However, his malice wasn't towards her, but towards Potter. A man would could forever hold Hermione in his favor and let her hold him in hers, without ever having either of them being condemned. God, he fucking hated Potter.

Draco sat in the bathroom, now just letting his nose bleed until it clotted itself. He'd perform a spell on it later to fix it, right then he didn't care. He just wanted her. He just wanted to hold her, to have her. He wanted to feel her hands in his hair again, to have the chance to feel her lips on his again. God, life was so cruel, wasn't it?

---

A/N - Sorry it took so long to get this out! OO I am bad bad baaaad! But bleh, my week has been crappy. Enough of that! How didja like? This is proving to be longer than I'd anticipated. I think another two chapters and it out to be done. One more for Draco to realize that his life just isn't complete without our Hermione and want her back regardless, and one to wrap up loose ends and be fluffy (smutty!). Yarg, again ignoring my bad spelling/ fast typing. I am a bad bad person x.x;;

Update: … this time I'll pay you for a cookie. I swears it. :D


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Anger Management

Author: S.L. Pagniello

Chapter: 7

Ship: Dr/ Hr

Rating: R

Synopsis: He hates her, everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her fucking muggle clothes! Now, during their 7th year at Hogwarts, he must not only deal with her but also learn to live with her. However, that may take the destruction of everything in his room... (HBP totally blows this into AU, but oh well!)

---

Weeks had passed, and Christmas was fast approaching. Draco and Hermione hardly saw one another. Their common room was never used, the two always being in the separate rooms. True, they had Transfiguration together, however one always got out before the other, and they never spoke to the other.

Draco had already decided to stay at Hogwarts for the break, choosing not to see his mother and father. It wasn't as if either would really notice his absence, but he sent them an owl anyway. Far to often Draco would find himself dwelling on the Head Girl, wondering what she was doing- how she was doing. He toyed with the idea that he didn't see her smile to often anymore, or that he felt her eyes on him when he wasn't watching. But that, alas, was probably his loneliness and overactive imagination plaguing him.

Ha, loneliness. Draco had never believed before that he could truly be lonely. He'd never really had real friends, and it had never before fazed him. He'd always thought he could get along by himself, be happy alone. It was true, years ago. But now, every time he looked at the bushy haired brunette all he could dwell on was his loneliness. All he could think about was how he could have had her, held her to him every night.

Today everyone was to be heading home for the holidays. Draco frowned, knowing he was going to spending his holiday alone, without even Hermione's presence to comfort him. She'd probably go home to her parent's, or spend the holiday with the Weasel family. Draco rubbed his temples, putting such thoughts out of his head. Instead, he wandered out to the common room. Perhaps he'd catch a glimpse of her entering or leaving. He did indeed catch her, but more than a glimpse. She was gathering some parchment off of the shared coffee table, dressed warmly in her Gryffindor colors.

Her head snapped up to look at him, her face flushed from the cold that she had obviously just come in from. She set her face as she looked at him. Draco didn't have the heart to sneer at her. Instead, he stood in his doorway and looked at her.

Hermione had finished gathering her things, holding them to her chest. "I doubt it would interest you to know but I felt I should inform you." She began, stiffly, "I'll be staying at Hogwarts for the Holiday, while Ron and Harry will be at the Burrow." She nodded, as if telling herself that's all she needed to tell him.

"Why?" Draco asked before he could stop himself. Dammit. She stared at him, as she headed back for the door.

"I really don't see why that's your business, but to avoid confrontation I'll tell you. My parent's are at a dental convention in Nova Scotia that I don't particularly wish to attend, and I don't want to intrude at Ron's home." She said, before turning and exiting.

Draco stared after her. So she wasn't leaving him for the winter break. This was a blessing and a curse. He'd be able to look at her daily without those eyesores following after her. But that meant it was going to be harder to put forth the front of hating her, of not wanting anything to do with her. He'd have to avoid her, wouldn't he? But, could he really do that, what with this sickening trail of loneliness following him around? He was tempted to laugh, laugh at all of his sick troubles. Did normal people worry about the woman they loved finding out that they actually had feelings for them?

Fuck. There it was. Draco sat on the couch, leaning his head into his hand, miserable. So, it was true wasn't it? The thought had come out like nothing in the midst of self-loathing. Normal people didn't worry about the woman they _loved_ finding out they actually had feelings for them. God, could his life just get any worse? So he loved her, did he? Most people, when they found out they had fallen in love (that disgusting feeling that made you just want to die when you were away from that person) were happy. But Draco, no. Oh God no. This was positively awful. What in the fuck was he going to do? God, what was he going to do!

Later that night he was in his room. He felt like breaking things again, this time out of pure frustration. Maybe he'd just loose consciousness again, and he could spend the whole holiday in the hospital wing. Then he wouldn't have to worry about Hermione, or these silly little feelings presenting themselves. Christmas was in a few days, wasn't it? He sighed idly, wondering if he ought to get her something. He knew he would, just because he wanted to. He just wouldn't put a name on it. Maybe he'd buy her something to wear, so when he saw her in it he could pretend she knew it was from him. He smirked a little at the thought. How would her friends like it if they saw some pretty trinket around Hermione's neck, wrist or finger from him? Ah, it was delectable, really. He sat up, brushing white blonde starks of hair from his face.

He looked into his mirror, studying his face. He frowned at his reflection, still unhinged at it. He didn't like the boy he was looking at. A boy would couldn't even take the woman he loved and care for he like a man should. But he wasn't a man yet, was he? At this point, he began to think he'd never become a 'man' in the psychological sense of the word. He was such a coward wasn't he?

He lay back on his bed, ignoring his awful reminders of his pathetic life showing through his face. Ultimately he decided he'd buy Hermione something. Something sweet and personal... and he'd just hide it in her things for her to find. She'd never know it was from him, of course. But at least... at least he could pretend.

Christmas morning. He'd successfully stayed away from her until then. They hadn't spoke since she'd told him she'd been staying for the Holidays. It was early now, about 6:30 in the morning. Draco wore a pair of long silk pants, dark green, with an open robe of the same color and fabric. In his hands he toyed with what he'd bought her from Hogsmeade the other day. His mother had always worn one, something from his grandmother before her and very treasured by Narcissa back when she was a real mother, and a real person. It was a thin bracelet, white gold with a lovely diamond every inch or so about the circle of it. It was pretty, even by Draco's standards, but was casual enough for everyday wear even by someone such as Hermione. Not to say that she didn't wear pretty things, she just wasn't the sort of girl to flaunt expensive jewelry and other such assortments.

He set the thing back in its velvet case, intending to go put it on Hermione's pile of things before she awoke. He got up, exiting his door quite silently, only to nearly careen into Hermione herself, about to knock on his door.

She stared at him, her face quite flushed. Obviously she was going to knock once, and run off, convincing herself he was asleep still. Slight change in plans for both parties.

Draco stared down at her, forgetting the malice or hate that he was supposed to conjure as he looked at her petite form. She wore a cotton nightshirt, short, small and pink. A pair of short shorts, matching, completed her onsomble.

"I... I..." She swallowed, gathering her bearings and placing shock elsewhere, "I know we're not... friends, but I got you something for... for Christmas." She whispered quietly. He now noticed she held something in her hands. It was wrapped in enchanted yellow paper with silently quacking ducks on it. How very Hermione-esqe.

Draco tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. Well, he just ought to give it to her, shouldn't it? Damn her friends and all that bull shit. A little gift wasn't going to get either of them killed or maimed, so what the fuck. He'd do it. Instead of speaking, he simply pulled the velvet box from behind him.

Hermione stared at it, and then they exchanged gifts. Again, he was silent as he nudged her towards the couches so they could open their things comfortably. He was trying to be civil without being sweet. It wasn't looking to good... she was going to open that present and... and what? What was she going to do? He hadn't taken that to thought. She could do a variety of things. Kiss him, hit him, scream at him, love him, hate him... But the other question was, what on Earth had she gotten him? He hadn't treated her very well the past weeks... in fact most of the time he treated her as if she didn't exist.

"I'll... save yours for last." She said, setting the box down. He could tell she had wanted to tear into it, but trying to save face she set it aside for now. He nodded, setting Hermione's present for him in his lap. He glanced at his small stack of gifts. So, his parents had remembered him, at least somewhat. It was nothing compared what he usually got, but he didn't care. He got a few things from his former dorm mates, at least the one who didn't hate him. Some candies, nice cologne from Pansy, a few new shirts and sweaters from mother. He ignored it, not even wanting to deal with the things as he watched Hermione open her things.

He watched her smile at every present she opened. One from Potter, Weasly and his family, her parents and other Gryffindors. Her stack far exceeded his own, and it took her nearly fifteen minutes to open it all. At least it was simply Draco's gift waiting to be opened. She picked it up, setting it in her lap. Then, she looked over at him, and spoke again.

"You first." She was blunt, so he decided not to argue. He looked down at the little gift, and the ducks. Again he tried to think of anything she would get him. He tore the paper of with care, not wanting to rip the little ducks. He slid out the gift, and noticed the softness. Now, bare of it's wrapper laid a scarf and hat. Both were handmade, soft and just a little fuzzy. They were both a very dark green, and when the light hit it, the fabric seemed to reflect flecks of silver throughout. The craftsmanship was excellent, and to make both must have taken... weeks.

He looked up at his reddened face, "Did you...?" He asked. She nodded, indicating that she had, in fact made them. Obviously they'd been made with him in mind as the receiver of the gifts. Even through his rough treatment she'd still worked on these gifts, putting her heart into the little trinkets.

"Thank you... Hermione." He said quietly, running his fingers over and over again over the soft fabric, unable to tear his eyes off of it now. "Open yours." He said quietly.

She looked down at the box in her hand, and with shaking fingers opened it. The diamonds sparkled at her and she stared at the thin little bracelet. "F-for me?" She asked, as if he could have possibly put the wrong thing in the little velvet box. She took the delicate bracelet from its confines to show him.

Draco merely nodded in response. She stared at it, and it twinkled at her. Perhaps no one had ever given her such a fine gift? He half expected it to be thrown in his face. Instead however, she undid the little clasp, and put it about her left hand. But her fingers were trembling to badly to rehook the clasp. Draco took her wrist in his hand, flicking the clasp closed with ease, his hands lingering on his skin for a bit longer than they should have. He released her.

Hermione stared at him, her eyes showing those millions of emotions. He could tell she wanted to ask him questions, a lot of questions. That was all right. Today she'd get her answers, she'd understand and they would part their ways. Hermione wasn't the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She'd realize the truth, why things were how they were.

"Why do you do what you do?" She asked quietly, deciding it was the best way to start this. Draco sighed, his hands toying with the fabric in his lap.

"It's all I know how to do. Push people away." He muttered. He glanced at her, and saw his answer wasn't being accepted. He shook his head, looking back down at his new scarf and hat instead of at her. "You don't need to fret over me so, I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not, since you wound up in such a heap so few weeks ago." She said, pointing out a good fact. He frowned; this wasn't going to be simple.

"I made... mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. My mistakes however, as I'm sure you tend to notice a trend with them, all tend to be rather large." He said sourly. Hermione was in front of him in an instant, kneeling at his feet and a hand on each knee. He looked at her face now, unable to keep his eyes from her. She looked so innocent sitting there between his legs, staring up at him as if he were the only man in the world. How true he wished that was at the moment.

"Yes, everyone makes mistakes. But there is no need to keep making them. Shouldn't you learn from them?" She asked. He stared down at her, pain in his eyes that couldn't be masked. "Shouldn't you try and do what's right?"

"I am trying to do what's right. I'm trying... so hard that it hurts me." He said, clutching at his heart now, "It hurts me, to look at you everyday, Hermione, and know I have to stay away from you. And I do have to stay away from you." He said, watching her chocolate brown eyes.

"Why? Why can't you just ask me what I want, doesn't that matter in the 'right or wrong' factor?" She asked him formidably. She knew how to argue her point, he could give her that.

"It doesn't matter, because I know what's right. What's right is not tying you to me and my family. What's right it not causing a rift between you and those little dimwits you adore so much. What's _right_ is letting you be happy." He said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. Hermione took his face into one of her warm hands. His skin was cold, and her hand felt comfortable and soft against it.

"I know what makes me happy, and you're only just learning. Ron and Harry, they have been my friends for years now. They know about me and about my heart. They can forgive whatever injustice I do by tying myself to you. You're family Draco, I don't want them. I don't care about either of them; they aren't the ones that stood up for... for everyone. They didn't sacrifice like you, Draco. They didn't see the wrongs they were committing. They didn't see the beauty in life like you saw..."

He listened to her speak. Why, why did she make things so hard? Why did she come up with all of this, all of these reasons? He could hardly keep himself from just grabbing her up.

"You don't want me and my problems." Draco said bluntly, moving to stand up, his new things clutched in his hands, letting her fingers slip from his face. Hermione bolted up to meet him.

"You don't know what I want! I haven't told you!" She scolded him, pointing a finger in his face. It reminded him so of their younger years, of when she was still just a pretty little know it all.

"It doesn't matter. Don't make things so.. so difficult!" He said, his voice rising somewhat. Hermione glared at him, as if he were being some insufferable child that hadn't the capacity to listen to reason.

"They aren't difficult, you're just making them that way!" She called back. He shook his head, his fingers digging into the fabric as he restrained himself from yelling.

"What would people say? What would they think? _You_ think now, Hermione! Do you really want my reputation to follow you for the rest of your life? I can't make you happy, I'm so fucked up I don't even know what I'm doing here! Voldemort should have killed me, I never should have even made it out of that battle, that's why my... my everything is so messed up!" He said, his voice bordering yelling. She glared at him heatedly.

"I don't care about any of it, what people think or say, nor have I ever! If I did I wouldn't have befriended Harry or Ron, or anyone else for that matter! And don't tell me you can't make me happy, Draco Malfoy, because you have. You know how to, I know you do. Your family's _reputation_ isn't my problem, or yours any longer. You've proved yourself in the eye's of everyone whether they want to believe it or not! But, _I_ believe it, Draco. _I_ believe it, and that's what matters!" Hermione yelled at him, stomping a bare foot on the floor.

He couldn't fight with her any longer; he just didn't have it in him to do it. His whole life had just drained his energy. Pretending to be what he wasn't for the last few weeks were exhausting. He set himself back on the couch, burying his face in the things she'd made for him. They smelled like her, sweet, like vanilla. She again dropped before him, taking his head and upper body in her arms and hugging him tightly to her.

"Draco please give... give things a chance." She murmured into his ear as he shook his head. "Please just let me... let me take care of you. I want to make sure you are happy, that things are how you want them... that you're never lonely again." He stopped shaking his head. The tears were soaking through the little garments, and his body shook just a bit.

God, the loneliness he felt when she wasn't near him. It was unbearable. As she held him in her arms he just felt as if a weight had been lifted, as if he just might be all right.

He pulled his face from the little hand-mades and looked at her. She smiled faintly, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wiped his away, letting her hand rest against his face.

"I'm not a good person. I'm... I'm awful." He said, "I don't deserve you, and I won't ever deserve you." He whispered. She shook her head.

"It's I who will never deserve you." He laughed half-heartedly at her comment. Hermione the pure and innocent not deserve him? He could have laughed himself silly if he had the stamina.

"Don't lie to me to make me feel better." He murmured. Hermione stroked his cheek, smiling at him.  
"But I'm not lying. Draco you're... you're perfect. You're beautiful, intelligent... kind and soft hearted when it matters. I never noticed before _he_ fell. But after, I began to think about things. You truly aren't as horrific as you tried to be... and I can see it. In your eyes, Draco. I can see that you care... about me." She said, face pinking lightly.

"I don't just care about you, Hermione," He whispered, staring into her eyes now, "I love you." The words were out. Those three little pathetic words that could mean so much to anyone, and did. Hermione's tears fell as she smiled at him,

"See, that wasn't so hard to say, now was it?" She asked, brushing the droplets quickly from her face. But she was right, it was so difficult. He felt better, also. He felt stronger, as if something he did could matter again. His fears were beginning to fade away, be that good or bad in the long run. He pushed the billion questions about how this could possibly work out of his mind.

"I'm going to warn you Hermione... I'm cranky in the evening. I snore, and take all the bed sheets. I can't hardly make myself a bowl of cereal in the morning, much less cook and I hate to be doing yard work or anything of that sort." Hermione laughed, throwing her arms about him again.

"I'm always cheerful, I am a heavy sleeper and often don't like the blankets anyway. My mother taught me eons ago how to make some simply scrumptious meals, and I never wanted a big yard anyway." Draco chuckled into her shoulder; finally releasing the things she'd given him and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her into his lap and away from the floor, snuggling his head into her chest as she stroked his hair.

"Don't ever worry about a thing that'll happen. We'll make it through the tough times with nary a scratch just you watch and see. I'll prove to you that I am not another one of your mistakes, and I'll keep you from making anymore." She said, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"You could never be a mistake, Hermione." He murmured into her cotton shirt, closing his eyes and feeling, for once, comfortable and complete.

She kissed the top of his head, and he moved to look up at her. She smiled down at him, her hair dripping down on either side of her face in twisted little curls. He closed his eyes again, awaiting the feel of her lips against his.

Dipping her head down to meet his, she stopped just before him. He could feel her breath tickle his cheeks, teasing him. "Draco," She began, bringing a hand to his face, stroking his lips wit her thumb for a second, "I love you too." And with a kiss, their contract was binding.

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A/N: AHH, there, it happened. :D haha. It's a happy day, Christmas, no? –laughs- I like this chapter, but did it go as smoothly as I think it did? I jumped more than I often do, but I think it was conveyed pretty easily. Think I jumped into the Dramione bit to quick? Perhaps Draco folded to soon? O.o! hmm... I think it was sweet, though. ;.; Oh well, I suppose! The final installment will be soon, I am on a roll. :D

Posted in ONE DAY! How cool and I dammit :D! (btw, thank you for ALL your comments! You guys... have just no idea how much you inspire me, how much you make my day shine. I love to read them before I go to work to know that there are people SOMEWHERE who love me. :D)

Update: spelling and grammar? CHECK!


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